Best Procures Poems
Oh, no, he best not patronize me on Valentines.
If I must dramatize appreciation, I shall agonize.
Each year, he thinks chocolates will rationalize
spending his time guarding the sofa so it won’t rise,
while my cooking and housework threaten to paralyze
all I am behind my victimized and exhausted eyes.
Unless he bears one, one way ticket for me to paradise
or procures a gift he ingests that will tranquilize,
he can stuff candy hearts in his behind so gelatinized.
The last time I fell for that darned, deceiving cupid
I committed to him and living my life forever stupid.
... CayCay Jennings
January 28, 2017
When a child if gifted with a book it transforms into a key to unlock the mind. The gate to the secret garden of imagination is pried from its forgiving hinges and the child is free to expand their imagination to galaxy proportions.
The simple pages of a book provide a passport for a passenger seat next to the likes of Captain Biggles in his Tibetan adventures to locate the forbidden city of Shangri Lah, or a magical flight to Neverland with Pan and the lost boys. Who knows how each “child’s mind’s eye will envisage the loathsome creature that is Mr Hyde or the demure Dr Jekyll?
It captures the heart of a parent to witness their young boy, lying on his bed, engrossed in the pages of Stevenson’s Kidnapped. His imaginings transform him into the character of David Balfour, fighting alongside the Jacobite rebel, Alan Stewart. Such a comforting vision is a young girl, lounging on the couch on a rain soaked winters afternoon, fanning through a copy of Anne of Green Gables, engrossed in the character of Anne Shirley, wishing to emulate her outgoing spirit and giving nature.
The abundant bread basket of literary expositions act as a conduit, unlocking a child’s ability to make judgements about morality, injustices and an understanding of consequences in decision making. All the while the simple act of quietly reading procures an incalculable and surreptitious response to education for a lifetime to come.
The nostalgic aroma of floral vanilla and almonds that emit from the pages of an old book invokes a sense of anticipation to the imaginary adventures about to be embarked upon, creating an atmosphere of ambivalence.
An implore to parents across the globe to leave the television set and so-called social media, bombarding a child’s mind like a tidal wave, leaving in its wake a desolate landscape of nothingness. Embrace the tactile feel of pages in hand, gently stroking the mind, embedding feelings of, wonder and imagination. Read to your children every day and encourage them to jamb their noses into literary masterpieces from the likes of Stevenson, Doyle, Dickens and many more worthy exponents that have stood the test of time.
Unswallowed lumps of lobster immodest
Crustacean returns to pincers persimmon
Waitress whisk indiscernible clears linen
Custom of one equates her eight hour day
Has It All Paul wipes away gourmet residual
Exhaustion frightened by frothy latte
Fingers in pies finance necromancer denies
Bulging funds fail to complete, coins conflict
Periphery rebuffs, enough is finite, endless leers
Goblet of gluttony grape broth overflow inflicts
Victim of vanished virtue, bon vivant declaration
Transmutes rules, outruns consequence
Guidance glued in buttery dough glides rhetorical
Yacht reined in quay quiver, another arrow for Cupid
Entertainment timed to change with shifting tides
Inglots tossed overboard drown in debauch
Drunk playboy Paul while vulnerable divulges
Disdain for greeds' steep scrag, perpetual pursuit
Outdo, prove prowess for those who never realise
Incongruent grapple for further forgets to cherish
Partners relent, resources force caucus to submit
Patronising Paul procures boardroom obedience
Inundating debt retards bombastic boon reward
Promise of association silences indulgent sin
28th June
Plenty Stimulates
The magic gem of curly hair,
Procures itself in sodden downpour.
Frizz retracts and curls define,
Revitalised by heaven's moisture.
No brolly required.
No wind-swept locks.
A long-awaited makeover,
Of the most natural kind.
28/04/2019
I am what you call a bearer of the "caul"
I was born with a veil that covered my face
It's supposed to be a sign of many things
For me this caul has given me the future
It is not something I can control
These things I see or feel
Sometimes they just overwhelm
I'm brought down to my knees
It's when they're strong and frighten me
I don't know where to turn
I know I'll sound quite insane if I share
The feelings of gloom that pain me so
But every now and then, I get a hint
From one close and dear,that shares the caul
Of something coming near
We do not have to say or explain the feelings
In our heads
We know by now it's from the caul
That wields and shares its doom
I never know exactly when or where
The tragedy will occur
Only feel the emotions that each event procures
It becomes a albatross I carry round my neck
This gift I was born with,Foresees fear and death
I wish I wasn't the one to carry this cross
It's knowledge is not of hope just misery and loss.
local cab driver big deal
lacking personal appeal
drives into a lake
procures a fish cake
then bumps an electric eel.
I'm indulging myself by re-posting this poem from 2017
because it cracks me up and I thought we might laugh together
Oh, no, he best not patronize me on Valentines.
If I must dramatize appreciation, I shall agonize.
Each year, he thinks chocolates will rationalize
spending his time guarding the sofa so it won’t rise,
while my cooking and housework threaten to paralyze
all I am behind my victimized and exhausted eyes.
Unless he bears one, one way ticket for me to paradise
or procures a gift he ingests that will tranquilize,
he can stuff candy hearts in his behind so gelintized.
The last time I fell for that darned, deceiving cupid
I committed to him and living my life forever stupid.
I acquire grievous compost in my mind’s glass eye,
piles and piles of waste debris lingers-
my subconscious feeds my intellect
and I am left breathing pure black ash
sinister by true nature yet pure as the whitest gold,
I seek the landfill only the poor seek;
for the needy realize the worth of
nourishment, not material wealth
my mind cracks open ineffably with vivid memories,
and this junkyard dwells where things
do not inhabit the universe - well needed
healthy thoughts ascend when the pure
crystalline hourglass stands perfectly still-
(as still as an imperial monumental column)
fear of the acumen residue in my dark mind procures,
feet planted firmly, standing upright-
ephemeral thoughts in my mind’s glass
eye flow through my bone marrow-
I embrace the remnants of solitude that
restlessly reside in my favorite junkyard;
(where I shall salvage what joy I have
left, and yearn to dispose of pain's refuse)
22 lines (sorry I just could not delete anymore lines)
October 31, 2019
Craig Cornish
My Favorite Junkyard Poetry Contest
The breeze…the breeze…the breeze
It blows her pain away
The breeze…the breeze…the breeze
It makes everything okay
For all that seems it brings…
A happy breezy Jane~
Wondrous windy days ….can take that empty shame
Lifting all the sorrow…..and blowing away the blame
The breeze shall seize her fears…..taking them away
If fallen leaves could speak…. wonder what they’d say
Before they leave the trees…. to convey a changing way
For all that seems it brings…
A happy breezy Jane~
I wonder if the breeze…. could remove strife that way
Making every thing better ….and mixing it with rain
The wind against your skin ….doesn’t seem like much to say
A mighty thought inside…. Procures hope finds its way
Lft your head up to the sky…let wind blow where it may
For all that seems it brings…
A happy breezy Jane
A true leader will lead the way into battle and he is defined by his actions and choices which will impact his followers. A leader procures a sense of security within his followers and secures fellowship amongst the rank. A weak leader looses his way and they destroy security and infest his troops with dissension and miss trust. Lead or not lead is what will define a true leader in life from a fraud of a leader. Lead with honor and contempt for those who would undermine the authority of a true leader of men.
I look in the mirror
And what do I see?
I see an exact
Copy of me.
I look in the bed
That lies above mine
There comes a voice
That procures my whine.
I look at the table
And to my right
I see my reflection
But I have no fright.
Each reflection had hair
Golden as wheat
We all love ice-cream
As our favorite treat.
Sapphire eyes
Four shining back at me
Tall lanky limbs
As graceful as could be
I am one of three
All copies of me
I’m a triplet you see
And I always will be.
The Spider Queen, The Sycamore
And The Tiger Moth
It is with glee
I gaze upon
A sycamore tree,
A cobweb spun,
And there between
The budding leaves
The spider queen
Busily weaves;
Silken ties
Of steely thread
To catch mere flies
In swarms overhead,
Sticky lures
Like rising sap,
By night she procures
Her silky trap.
Then to her cloth
Of deathly lust
A tiger moth
With wings of dust
Flutters near,
Her kiss unseen,
No love nor fear
For the spider queen.
Wrap him neatly,
Wrap him tight,
Wrap completely
O love of the night,
No man nor beast
Shall pass this way
And she shall feast
For many a day.
I stand, too keen
And gaze in awe
At the spider queen
And the sycamore,
In love, succumb
To her lustful wrath,
And I become
The tiger moth.
©RJVHorton2016
The ABCs of Another Poetry Soup Friend, Who Is:
Amiable and responsive to many people in need.
Bold when it comes to matters of conservation.
Caring and sympathetic, her heart seeks goodness.
Dismayed at times, her strength endures…even on tough days.
Encouraging to many, she acknowledges talents effervescently.
Friendly and loving, she embraces matters of the heart.
Giving, she shares her knowledge through poetry…educating.
Hopefully smiling, she walks a solitary life, kindly, helpfully.
Intelligent and assertive, she is successful at shaping results.
Justice and fairness are an integral part of her soul.
Knowledgeable, journalism and poetry are second nature to her.
Lovingly, her laughter can brighten lives in delightful ways.
Mystifying at times adds to the intrigue of knowing her.
Noble and decent are her intentions.
Opulent with kindheartedness and compassion, she uplifts others.
Passionate submersing herself fully, when she loves.
Quiet-spoken and calming bestows her wise words.
Resolute when it comes to meeting life goals.
Studious; she is successful at acquiring and presenting knowledge.
Terrific; one would be honored to have her as a friend.
Up to date on the latest events: political, poetic, personal
Victoriously she approaches the trials of life.
Wonderfully, she procures and nurtures new friends.
Xceptionally fortunate am I for the gift of knowing her.
Youthful at heart, she remains forever beautiful.
Zealous, inspiring, a real spitfire…this friend I admire is Carolyn Devonshire.
Here we go around to explore bargains,
This downtown shopping brings sure encounters;
We loiter these grounds with mindset laid plain,
Leafing and breezing through noisy clutter.
We take our sweet time to look and enjoy,
No need to hurry to snatch and to grab;
So many wares rhyme in such greedy ploys,
Credit woes worry if craze floods mind map.
This consumer fad in wrong appetites,
Tempting stuff parade to linger lust plain;
Shopping spree gone mad with blistering bites,
Uneasy charades to bolster fond gain.
That old Hamlet thought provokes and prolongs:
"Buy or not to buy" springs daunting question;
This stuff costs a lot and temptation's strong;
Then firms a sure sigh to flee persuasion!
We tarry a while to ponder anew,
Consider our cares and measure need or want;
Let sanity style our subconscious cues,
Then with steady fare, settle the undone.
So hear happy heart skip free and shop-hop;
No need to spend more than the basic intents;
Discern how to start to enjoy each stop;
Indulge not a cent in spending content!
We come to seek out the things that we need,
Buy only the stuff that suits our lifestyle;
Ignore the sales shouts that funnels our greed;
Wit procures enough to forge a fond smile.
Downtown Singapore we explore new malls,
Seek out new treasures, breeze from store to store;
Browse surprise galore in offers that call,
Glass display measures that advertise more!
Leon Enriquez
06 Apr 2014
Singapore
A swelling in his nostrils bulged.
His crooning bellows off distant cliff.
The bull elk’s mane expands in rhythm
Mates are sought through distant forest.
Challengers may seek a struggle,
but, must withstand his bending thrust.
The raucous song of crashing antlers,
will defeat all rivals with sharpened tines.
The heard is now his ruminate kingdom.
Females submit to his aroused gestures,
like hooves sinking into the soft meadow.
The rut procures new lives in spring.
When wildflowers are grazed on hillsides,
until the summer grasses sustain,
and falls dried stalks consumed,
winter’s trees provide twigs for browse.
Fear does not drive the regal elk.
He will stamp the dust against bear and wolf.
Their marauding paws and slashing fangs,
cannot defeat his burnished rack.